The Journey to Manhood

•August 12, 2013 • Leave a Comment


Feel the anger and wrath of a confused boy on the way to being a man.

In the darkness he hid himself away in fear that what he was would be looked down upon.

And further into the darkness he hid, taking with him the heart of a young girl, the memories of those who loved him, and his own soul until he reached a place where they could be discarded, forgotten as not.

And around him he gathered the ideas of what it meant to be a man: he pieced together the mask of his worst nightmares, his insane laughter was only that of a tormented boy becoming societies ideal man. 

And in the darkness the mask was forged into the most twisted form of hatred that the boy had ever laid eyes on. 

But he wore this mask. He became this personality. And he hid himself so well that this mask became who he was.

and from the darkness he stepped back into the light, knowing he would still be hidden.

and he deceived those around and denounced who he had been, and kept it hidden, though in the end it was always in him.

and throughout the years, the mask would slip. and parts of his former self would be revealed. 

and he would justify himself with action that would prove himself to himself.

He was capable of so much more, but settled for murder of his past.
And the girl who’s soul was stolen died to him and not a single fuck was given. 

and he killed himself over and over, again and again. but the intoxications that he put into his body only made for temporary murder before he was alive more over again.

One night in the dark of a room, he bowed before his two Lords: one of pity and self loathing, the other of kindness and understanding.

and he removed his mask and breathed his last. And fell prostrate on the floor. 

Before his Lords he released all that had pent up inside of him. and he clenched his fist and gnawed his teeth. 

Tears flowed down and frustration built up as he let loose all that had been hidden. And he smashed the mask and let out screams and pleas for death.
And he cut and burnt himself until all that remained was that of himself, naked and raw. 

And he looked up to see that in the midst of the destruction of himself and all he had built, the Lord of pity and self loathing had been murdered cold, the blood draining from the body into a black pool. 

The Lord of kindness and understanding looked down at the distressed boy and picked him up. He dusted him off, embraced him, and gave him a kiss. The tender look of love was unlike any the boy had felt. Tears of joy rushed down his face. As he blinked them away, he suddenly found himself alone. But the warmth from his only Lord grew in him more. 

And even though he was alone, he felt confident in who he was.

The anger and wrath of a confused boy had shaped him into what he longed to be the most: a man.


And He

•May 9, 2013 • Leave a Comment

And he was told love would last forever
In the moment his heart was stolen
But his stolen heart was broken
And the love that should last forever
Would never start

And he would grasp out for love
In a number of other things
He would lust, drink and do drugs
Yearning to find what everyone else
Talked about so earnestly

Then one night alone, on a swing in a park
He sat there thinking about life in the dark
But couldn’t see a future, only the black
And so he stood up to leave and never look back
He balanced up at the parks highest point

In the morning the neighbors gathered around
To look at what the little girl found
A broken heart hole in the shattered ground
Now they could see and feel his pain
And they hung their heads to say “what a shame”

If Only I Could

•April 1, 2013 • Leave a Comment


If only I could express everything.

But I still fear being judged.

I feel like my life is a lie, but I’ve lied to make that lie possible.

Do you think we go to hell for things we do even when we believe in God?

Or do you think that God is sovereign and forgives us for everything?

I hope you all know that I wish I was dead, but I’m too much of a coward to be that much of a coward.

I can’t run away from my problems, nor can I hide from them,

but to try to escape from them in such a stupid way would not get rid of the problem.

I feel I am not damned by anyone but myself.

This damned fool is damning himself for his own mistakes.

But I look for someone to blame. The number of times “Fuck You God” have passed my lips should in and of itself be enough to earn me eternal damnation.

But God loves me more than that to continue to love me even when I hate Him?

So if I turn my back on Him, do I separate from him? or does He love me enough to not damn me because of it?

I wish that there were definite answers for me, but I’m stuck in this gift of mercy that is incomprehensible to me because all I’ve ever known is that my wrong deeds have a consequence.
Have I served my time? Am I serving it now? Where do I go from here?

I yearn for punishment for my wrong doing and not an embrace of love because this loving embrace only means that I could keep doing this and keep getting mercy.

At what point does mercy run out? At what point do I no longer have this mercy. If I live my life the way that I want to but always in my head believe in God, is that enough to earn me eternal life?

Or does eternal life even exist at all?
Questions meander in my head and yet I’m still here and I’m still alive and I don’t know why because everything I’m striving for or I’ve strived for have been wretched away from me and left me in a state where I’m either depending on myself or depending on God. But when I’ve depended on Him before, He hasn’t pulled through in the time I need, but His timing is perfect, but when is it?

I’m dead on the inside and barely breathing on the outside.

Barely Hanging On.

•March 29, 2013 • Leave a Comment

No. Stop it. Stop. You don’t know.

You can say you relate but you don’t.

You can’t tell me that you have ever

had those experiences under perfect weather.

Where you sit in your room crying.

You say you’re okay but you know you are lying.

Every breath is pain because you relive

The worst parts of life since you were a kid.

And you feel pain so intense it’s wrong

The sonder takes on the pain all along.

You don’t know what I’ve been through

You don’t know what it’s like

To feel like the only option would be suicide.

Or to look in the mirror and see someone you don’t know.

But you hate him because it’s the worst you could go.

You don’t know what it’s like to hold a blade

to your wrist and your throat but you’re just too afraid.

You don’t know what it’s like to be denied

everything you’ve ever strived for; you lied.

You don’t know what it’s like to be alone,

Because you’ve always been wanted.

It gets better you say, but it’s been five years

and the closest to good I’ve ever gotten left me in tears.

They say it gets worse before it gets better and to hang on to the end,

But I am striving to hang on even just one more day.

I’m barely hanging on and we are far from the same.

Because you don’t know what that’s like, you don’t know who I am.

The Act In Six

•March 22, 2013 • Leave a Comment

In the darkness of the night, concealing all,

Yet the light of the moon was bright enough

to barely illuminate the car.

In the corner of the lot, secluded from most

a window stood open, steam like a ghost.

Just a glance made the difference.

In a car so alone, yet bonding took hold.

Their foreboding act, foreboding so cold.

Yet truly a memory that one can’t soon forget.

Moments passing, a single bead of sweat.

In two there are one, they are one another,

in an act that pushed the boundaries further.

but their innocent love, compassion in the raw

in an act that should not have been seen at all.

In a movement, a roll and a gasp.

their moment so long, yet fleeting it passed.

For them, so long, intense, and new…

In a few feet, their beauty was gone,

but their shadows echo a lifetime,

their rebellious act lives on.


•March 19, 2013 • Leave a Comment

The thoughts get worse,

The night gets darker,

The heart grows worse,

I’m closer to death…


•March 13, 2013 • Leave a Comment

In choosing a college, I said to myself that I wanted to go to a christian college to “be challenged and continue to grow in my faith. Little did I realize one of the biggest challenged I would face would take me to some wild places. Through the years, I would struggle with a multitude of questions. The heaviest: what does it mea to be a Christian? And the examples I’ve seen have been great…great lies. You see, I came to a christian college so that I could grow in God by examples of good Christian’s around me. But what I found were a bunch of hypocrites & lies: people pretending to be something they are not, people flirting with death as if they were immortal, people tricking and deceiving and the next moment singing praises of how good God was. Fakes. Looking around, I found a few genuine people. Some were stoners, most of you know one, who hate the lot and want only to have fun. Others were drinkers, week after week, that lived without a care as long as they had some vodka or beer. And still others, amongst the “Godly” were truly on fire and living beautiful lives. But the majority are a multitude of liars, pretending that everything is okay, as if they knew what was going on in their lives, the world, the universe, when in reality, they are blind: grasping, not only with their hands, but with their minds, to understand something they never can. Amongst these people, you cannot question anything because “that is just wrong”. So if I’m struggling with drinking, lust, sex, drugs, suicidal tendencies, homosexual feelings, anger, frustration, feeling useless, dumb, idiotic, unworthy, depressed, am I wrong? Because these are questions I can not ask… I’m pushed away and forced to deal with it on my own. I’m told to come back when I’m healthy and healed and have found God because if I’m struggling, obviously I must be doing something wrong. Does it make me sorry to say that some of the best conversations I’ve ever had about God and Religion are with the same people I was drinking and getting high with? You see, we (yes, not just you, but also me), we are so quick to judge all the parties, so quick to make a statement and not listen. Yes, we are all guilty of being so quick to take that position of God and judge the people we see (the stoners, the drinkers, the lustful, the Godly, the fake alike) instead of stopping to hear out what that other person has to say because “God forbid a person like that have something of use to say”. Yes, I’m guilty of this as well and it would be a God Damned lie if I tried to say otherwise. Yes, I judge. But I judge because I’ve seen so many people struggling with these questions in life, struggling with the pain, pains that people in the Christian community say are wrong. I’ve seen those people be pushed away. I’ve seen those people run away. I’ve seen those people hide behind the masks of “everything’s alright”, “I’m just tired”, and “It’s been a long week” when in reality they are screaming for attention and fearing the worst: that someone might see the scars from sliding that blade across one too many times, that their emotional scars might be seen because they are permanently worn on their face, or that someone might actually care enough to ask what’s wrong. But no. These bruises and scars and tears are constant reminders that you are not perfect and that if you can’t show you are perfect in God’s eyes by not having any problems or struggling with any sin, then you are not worthy enough to be accepted into this loving community. Shunned, like the prostitute, the liar, the tax collector, the sinners we are. Yet we still shun others so that our sins might not mark us up as bad as it does the others, so that we might look down upon someone and feel better about ourselves when the reality of the situation is that we are all stained. Don’t you get it? We are one in the same! We are united, not by the very things that separate us, but the one thing that draws us together: that we are sinners! We don’t deserve grace, we don’t deserve love, we don’t deserve these lives we have, yet we do. But, why even try to comprehend that. We will all still sit here like we are higher beings because we don’t drink, we don’t lust, we don’t have sex, we don’t do drugs, we don’t contemplate suicide, we don’t struggle with homosexuality, we don’t feel anger, frustration, useless, dumb, idiotic, unworthy, depressed, we don’t do anything wrong….

Or maybe we do….

So what are we to do, brothers and sisters?

What are we to do?

-The Sonder’s TCM